


parts

by spacebubble



Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: (in pt 5), 5+1 Things, Ficlet Collection, Fluff, M/M, Multi-Era, No Plot/Plotless, Solid Odo, Touching
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-04
Updated: 2020-09-07
Packaged: 2021-03-06 22:26:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 1,923
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26286400
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spacebubble/pseuds/spacebubble
Summary: 5 times people fixated on specific parts of Quark's body + 1 time someone focused on more than that.
Relationships: Boheeka/Quark (Star Trek), Brunt/Quark (Star Trek), Hanok/Quark (Star Trek), Odo/Quark (Star Trek)
Comments: 21
Kudos: 87





	1. (Odo/Quark, pre-canon)

**Author's Note:**

> Just a quick fun set of scenes!

Odo stops in his tracks as he walks into the bar.

There's something different about Quark today.

He stares intensely at Quark's face from across the bar, the sense of something out of the ordinary prickling at his consciousness. 

It's not Quark's behavior - he's mixing drinks and chattering nonsense like he usually does, flitting back and forth behind the counter at his habitual pace. 

Suspicious as always, but not more so than usual.

It's not Quark's clothes - he's seen this outfit before, this particular combination of greens and warm colors, like the moss in the springtime and the forest floor in autumn. Quark wore this coat last week, and the matching pieces underneath.

Odo drifts closer. 

(Naturally. As a matter of course. To improve his vantage point, purely for routine observational purposes.)

He's certain he didn't make a noise - nothing easily heard above the din of the bar, at least - yet Quark's head snaps up at his arrival anyway.

"Odo!" Quark instantly gives him his full attention. "What can I do for you?"

And as Odo scrutinizes Quark's face, it dawns upon him. 

"Your eyes," Odo remarks, walking up to the counter.

"Huh?" Quark blinks. "What about them?"

"What did you do?"

"To my eyes?" Quark tilts his head, frowning. "Nothing, why?"

"They look different." 

"I promise you, Odo, I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Are you sure?" Odo rests his hands on the counter and leans forward, staring deeply into Quark's perplexed gaze. It's not Quark's irises, which remain the same shade of blue they've always been. But there had to be - 

Oh.

Odo nods towards Quark's face. "You're using a new color of eye pigment." 

"Eyeshadow," Quark automatically corrects, then does a double take, voice immediately shifting from pedantry to a higher register of surprise. "Wait, you noticed?"

Was he not supposed to? Quark didn't sound like he expected him to notice. 

Odo smiles. "I always notice, Quark."

Quark's mouth falls open. His cheeks turn an interesting color. Just a few shades lighter than the new color adorning Quark's eyelids.


	2. (Boheeka/Quark, pre-canon)

There's something about placing his hand on the back of Quark's neck that always gives Boheeka a little thrill.

Maybe it's because of the first time he placed his hand on the back of Quark's neck, to draw him closer for a kiss. 

Quark's skin felt so strangely smooth, and soft. Unlike the thicker necks Boheeka's so accustomed to back on Cardassia Prime, or in the occasional bunker, or in stolen moments midway towards the next mission.

He could feel Quark's body heat through his palm, warming up his fingers as Quark tipped his head back to be kissed. 

How vulnerable Quark felt, how easily caressed.

And whenever Quark made a sound - and he always kept making sounds - Boheeka could feel the gentle vibrations against his skin.

Quark doesn't like it when he gets sentimental. He also doesn't like public displays of affection. Finds them suspicious somehow. 

Which Boheeka understands. A good soldier understands the importance of discretion. 

But sometimes, when he sees Quark in a particularly flattering shirt, with a low collar, showing a little more throat than usual -

Well!

Boheeka wouldn't mind being allowed to be more indiscreet.


	3. (Hanok/Quark)

When Hanok accidentally makes a wrong turn in the corridor, he instinctively reaches for Quark's back to guide him the other way. 

He didn't mean anything by it. His hand shot out naturally. 

The instant he feels Quark's shoulders underneath his palm - 

Electric.

He wouldn't have been surprised if an actual shock had occurred, transmitting from Quark's body into his fingers. 

The span of his hand almost covers the back of Quark's shoulderblades entirely. 

How novel, this stark contrast between the size of their bodies, the proportions of their frames...

"Hanok?"

"Yes?" Hanok asks absently.

"Not that I mind the massage," Quark murmurs sweetly, "but we're almost at the meeting room."

"Massage?" Hanok immediately drops his hand to his side, guilt overwhelming him - he had been rubbing Quark's back, _caressing_ it in a moment of unwitting, traitorous, utterly unjustifiable self-indulgence. "I... I apologize. I didn't - I shouldn't have - Quark, I'm so sorry, I don't know what came over me -"

"Hanok, shh, it's okay!" Quark chuckles, shoulder bumping into Hanok's arm. "Really, it's fine." His voice is light, amused. "I just figured I should say something before we walk into a room full of people."

Hanok looks down, surprised.

Quark grins back up at him. "Kinda liked it, actually. Felt nice."

"Oh." Hanok slows down his pace. His thoughts feel slow as well, struggling to surface in his mind. The electric memory of Quark's body underneath his hand. "It felt... nice?"

"Yeah." Quark eyes him, pace slowing down as well. "Maybe after this meeting's over, we could see if... other things feel nice?"

The corridor feels too warm all of a sudden.

"If you're not busy or anything," Quark tosses out casually, giving him an out, giving them both an exit strategy, an easy excuse. 

"Oh," Hanok repeats dumbly. He nods. "Yes. I wouldn't be - yes. I'll... we can walk to my transport. After."

They're at the door. 

"Okay then." Quark lowers his voice to an intimate whisper as the doors part open. "It's a date."


	4. (Brunt/Quark)

"Brunt."

He looks up at Quark. "Yes?"

Quark grins at him. "Are my ankles really that interesting?"

Brunt can't tell if Quark's trying to ridicule him or not. Ambiguous. He languidly strokes the outside of Quark's left ankle, running his fingertips along the curves of the joint. 

"I mean." Quark scoots closer, and Brunt's hand ends up sliding upwards, slowly caressing his calf, before he trails his fingers back down. "There's just... other parts you could be touching right now, you know?"

"I know," Brunt replies. 

He continues lingering, enjoying the domesticity of the moment - Quark lounging on his couch, bare feet propped up in his lap, in his hands. 

He thinks about how easily he could grasp Quark's ankles, one in each hand, and hoist them over his shoulders. Run his palms down those nude legs, then nestle in between Quark's parted thighs.

"Brunt," Quark whines. "Pay attention to me."

"I am," Brunt murmurs.

Impulsively, he lifts Quark's ankle to his lips and presses a kiss into the skin.

There's a pause as Quark watches him.

Then:

"You're weird," Quark sighs. 

But Brunt can hear the amusement in Quark's voice, and it makes him smile.


	5. (Solid Odo/Quark)

Just a glimpse was enough to send the blood rushing to Odo's cheeks. 

It's absurd. He should be used to the sight by now. How many years has it been?

Years of seeing Quark's bare wrists past the cuffs on his coat, the sleeves of his shirt, the naked undersides pressed together in the traditional Ferengi gesture of submission and apology, the barely perceptible trails of veins at the pulse points.

Years of Quark absentmindedly adjusting his sleeves to cover up the millimeters of exposed skin, tugging the fabric over his momentary flash of nudity.

Once, catching Quark's eye during such a moment, noticing the way Quark quickly averted his gaze, moved his hands out of sight.

Sometimes he thinks about grasping Quark by the wrist, letting his fingers enclose and encircle. Direct contact, skin to skin. 

A firm grasp.

A surprised noise. 

Pulling Quark closer. Slowly. Not to hurt him. Just to bring him near. 

Near enough to -

Odo coughs, tugs at the collar of his uniform.

The temperature controls were far too warm on the station. He hadn't noticed before.

Time for another glass of water from the replicator. 


	6. +1 (Odo/Quark, post-canon)

It's been years, and he still can't figure Odo out.

Everyone else has always had _something_. Some favorite part of him that they couldn't help returning to, over and over.

But with Odo...

It's still a mystery.

Not that Quark hasn't tried to guess, but Odo keeps thwarting his guesses.

So one night, when they're lounging together in bed, he asks.

"Hrm?" Odo sounds confused, perhaps even suspicious, as if wary that Quark's about to lead him into a conversational trap. "What do you mean, 'favorite'?"

"I dunno. The part you like the most." Quark snuggles closer and the covers slip off his bare shoulder. 

He watches Odo's eyes dart to his shoulder, watches Odo's hand reach out -

...and pull the covers back over him.

"So... not the shoulder?" Quark asks, feeling cozy and post-coital and curious. 

Odo's brow furrows. He drapes an arm across Quark's side, a heavy, loose-limbed layer on top of the duvet and blankets. "I _do_ like your shoulder."

"But is it your favorite?"

The corner of Odo's mouth curls up in a fond smirk. "My favorite shoulder?" 

Quark rolls his eyes. "You know what I mean."

"I'm not entirely sure I do." Odo scrutinizes him. He lightly caresses Quark's back through the covers. "But I don't have other shoulders I would rather see, if that's the compliment you were angling for." 

"I wasn't _angling_ ," Quark protests, though he's not above relishing the compliment nonetheless. He briefly lifts his head off the pillow to scoot closer. "I'm just trying to... investigate."

"Investigate?" Odo repeats wryly, drawing out the syllables in a way that makes Quark blush. He strokes the back of Quark's shoulderblades, lazily running his fingers up along Quark's spine, the lightest pressure through the covers. "And what exactly are you investigating?"

Quark shrugs. "Already told you." He grins. "I want to know your favorite part of me."

Odo slides his hand up further, caressing the back of Quark's neck. 

The touch makes Quark perk up. "Is it my neck?"

A fond chuckle. "Not just your neck, Quark."

"I've been told it's a very nice neck."

Odo frowns. "Who's been telling you?"

Was that a hint of jealousy? After years of insecurity over Odo's affection, even a mere hint was enough to catapult Quark into ecstasy. 

"Nobody recent," Quark replies casually, teasingly. Just enough to make Odo think about the possibility that other people _did_ find him attractive. 

"Hrmph." A deeper grumble. Odo continues caressing the back of his neck, as if intent on staking his claim to current territory.

Quark knows it's a fine line between teasing Odo and annoying him (though sometimes it's one and the same), so he gives Odo a quick kiss before flopping his head back down on the pillow, prompting a modestly appeased sound in response. 

"So, not just my neck," Quark continues. He slips a hand out from underneath the covers. "What about...?"

Quark holds up his hand, wrist facing outwards, and Odo immediately grasps it, sliding his fingers down until he's stroking the inside of Quark's wrist with his thumb.

Quark shivers at the contact. "Is that your favorite?"

Odo interlaces their fingers together, tightly. "No."

"Then what _is_?" Quark whines, shaking their interlocked hands in frustration. "Odo, tell me."

Odo gives his hand a squeeze. He waits a moment, looking thoughtful, before responding. "Nothing."

"Nothing's your favorite?"

Odo smiles. He gently pushes and pulls on Quark's hand in a mellower version of Quark's frustrated gesture. "Precisely."

Back to square one. Quark sighs, trying to extract his hand from Odo's, but Odo's not letting go. 

"Quark."

"What?"

Odo leans in to bump their noses together in a quick, fond nuzzle, before pulling away to look Quark in the eyes. "They're _all_ my favorites, you scoundrel. Because they're all a part of _you._ "

"Oh!" Quark beams, basking in the reassurance, the affection.

"Satisfied?"

Quark wiggles his fingers in Odo's grasp. "I guess."

"You _guess_?" Odo begins, before Quark cuts him off with an enthusiastic kiss. 


End file.
